Like it’s listening.
How is that possible?
I shake, terror flooding hot and dizzy through my veins. Shaun’s thumb presses beneath my chin, guiding my breath down, down, down.
The thing pauses.
Vines flex, tasting the air, thick and corded, slick with blood that drops to the floor in sluggish, sticky plops. Each one lands too loud.
The pumpkin head turns into the light and my stomach flips.
Red leaks through the carved grooves like it’s smiling through its own intestines.
Oh my god.
My chest locks up. My lungs scream for air, but my body refuses to listen.
Its perfume of blood and pulp rolls in waves, sickly sweetness underneath, like someone tried to dress decay up for a fall festival and failed.
The vines still.
Its head tilts.
Like it can feel us tucked inside this closet. Two hearts slamming against a wooden coffin, pressed together.
TWELVE
THUD
SHAUN
Every instinct screams to run,but my body locks up. My legs refuse. My lungs forget their job.
Val makes a small sound against my palm. A broken whimper she can’t swallow.
I tighten my hold, not to silence her, but to brace her. My thumb drags once across her cheek.I’m here. I’m not letting go.
If this thing comes closer, I’ll put myself between them and her. I don’t care how. I don’t care what it costs. She gets out. That’s the only rule that matters.
Drew’s body lurches forward, vines threaded through his arms and chest like cords pulled too tight. His shoulders snap at angles they never should. His boots scrape across the floor in short, uneven steps.
Drew.
My chest caves in.
I want to scream his name. I want to rush out there, grab him by the shoulders, tell him to knock it off. Tell him this isn’t funny. That it’s gone too far.
But the thing wearing his body isn’t Drew anymore.
The vines twitch and cinch, hauling him forward in sharp, broken motions. Stutter. Stop. Reset. Like something learning how to use him.
Fred’s body lurches beside him, just as wrong. Just as empty. Vines knot through his torso, glistening under the dim light. The pumpkin on his shoulders tilts, its carved grin stretched wide and dripping.
My heartbeat pounds against my ribs, loud enough I’m sure it will give us away.
Then Fred’s body drops and drags something farther into view.
Sandie.
